


CD

by Killbog



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:14:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24419476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killbog/pseuds/Killbog
Summary: He'd taken everything from you. What you held most dear on Earth. But what you he give you in return?
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Reader
Kudos: 6





	CD

Work sucks, I know. Green Day really knew how the rat race worked, huh? You went to lovingly trace a hand along your CD collection, alphabetized and dusted regularly. It was the highlight of your otherwise drab apartment. There it was, Enema of the State. The comically grinning nurse stared back into your eyes. You move to your Marantz CD6006 and press the eject button. With surgical precision you remove the CD, fingers careful to not touch the data heavy underside. As Billy Joel Armstrong’s voice filled your house you laid back on the couch and let your eyes trace along the beautiful spines of your music disks. The Mollusk by Ween, In the Court of the Crimson King by King Crimson, 69 Love songs by The Magnetic Fields, New Orleans Street Singer by Snooks Eaglin, Mississippi Blues Vol. 3 “Catfish Blues by Various Artists, The Essential Kris Kristofferson by Kris Kristofferson, Cletic Woman by Celtic Woman, A New Journey by Celtic Woman, Famous Monsters by The Misfits, Static Age by The Misfits, American Psycho by The Misfits, The Misfits Box Set by The Misfits, Legacy of brutality by The Misfits, Walk Among us by The Misfits, Cleopatra by The Lumineers, Bat Out of Hell by Meatloaf, Sexmilitary II by Viper, The Essential David Allan Coe by Mr. Coe himself, Evilive (Live) by The Misfits, Friday the 13th by The Misfits, Vampire Girl by The Misfits, Zombie Girl by The Misfits, Some Hearts by Carrie Underwood, Success by The Weathergirls, Violence has Arrived by Gwar, Ultimate Christmas by Frank Sinatra.

All your music was what Ichor was to the Gods. They flowed in you, musical notes becoming lifeblood to pump through your veins like bars on a musicians paper. Today the guy in IT had come to your workstation when your computer had frozen. It didn't look good for you, as you had been buying a new CD on Ebay when it crashed. When the man had finally maked the computer work again he raised an eyebrow at you and said.

“Music huh?”

“Yeah” You said, and he left. Little did he know, it was more than music. It was your blood on the screen. You clicked confirm order on Views by Drake.

Sleeping was simply a time when no CD sound could reach you. The dark times when you couldn't see your collection, like Life After Death by Notorious BIG, IL Piccolo Diavolo (The Complete Motion Picture Soundtrack), Voulez-Vous by Abba, A Little More Personal (RAW) by Lindsay Lohan, Underclass Hero by Sum 41, Loose by Nelly Furtado, Suddenly you were pried from your restless sleep when a loud smash came from your living room window. You jolted up in bed, hand reaching under your bed to grab your slugger bat. Why would anyone break in? Then it dawned on you, all your valuable CD’s. You quietly rolled out of bed and peeked from your bedroom into your living space. What you saw confounded you. It was a cloaked shadowy figure, huge and imposing, busying itself with your CD’s, loudly shoveling them into a burlap sack, possibly scratching the plastic covers. Without thinking of your own safety, you rushed him with the bat held highly. Bringing it down to beat the intruder into submission. However, at the last second the figure turned on you, taloned gauntlet closing around the bat. You fell back, letting go of the bat and let out a frustrated scream. “Why!?” The man had turned to you now, and you could see the owl-like mask he wore. It was the assassin you had seen all over the news. Reaper. Why was he here? What did he want with your CDs?

“Because I want all of your CDs.” He growled, stalking towards you menacingly. He raised the bat and smacked you on the head.

Crumpling to the ground, you see black for a few moments, sure of the concussive strength of his blow. You could do nothing but watch in a trance as he finished shoveling all of your music into his bag. When he was done, burlap sack bulging, and seemingly satisfied, he turned to you. He gave you one final kick in the stomach and turned to your front door, which he kicked down with a heavy boot. You crawled over to your empty CD organizer, let out a bloody cough and raised a hand to feel the cold laminate wooden shelves. Empty. Wait. There was one solitary gleaming plastic case. Like an oasis in the desert, you hoisted yourself to reach it, every muscle in your body protesting. More blood gurgled from your mouth as your fingertips just traced the warm inviting plastic. With as much strength as you could muster, finally! It was in your hands. You cradled it close, slowly looking down to see Tusk by Fleetwood Mac was still there. It would always be there.


End file.
